


Stray Spring

by marizousbooty



Category: Moominvalley (Cartoon 2019), Mumintroll | Moomins Series - Tove Jansson, 楽しいムーミン一家 | Moomin (Anime 1990)
Genre: Fluff, Light Angst, M/M, Romance, Sickfic, Spring Deity Snufkin, flower symbolism bc thats how i work i dont change, little my is a demigod???, more characters will be added as the story goes on, no beta we die like men, so soft it hurts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-01
Updated: 2019-08-15
Packaged: 2020-07-28 23:16:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20072236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marizousbooty/pseuds/marizousbooty
Summary: A deity borne of spring and summer can't leave Moominvalley alone.





	1. Song (A New Day)

**Author's Note:**

> *sticks leg out* I started this like months ago and never finished it because of school and conventions now im here to slap it in your face so i can crank this baby out then shove my whole body into finishing Morning Glory enjoy.  
also https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4TLrmUkS8ZUY7RfGkROjtK this playlist slaps and I have it on whenever I write Moomins.

It always starts with a song. A new tune that hummed in the melting snow, reverberated through the sleepy air as the earth beneath his feet awoke. He could feel his own sluggishness slowly dissipating, melting away with the snow slush and streaming into the chilled creaks. It was too early for the flowers to truly bloom, the shade still too cold for comfort, but the sun was finally free from its smoke screen and filled the air in a watery golden haze that chased away the remnants of winter. 

Early spring felt as if one woke up refreshed from a long, pleasant nap, washed their face, and stretched out the remaining sleep kinks in a patch of sunlight streaming through the window. Everything was too sleepy to cause a fuss quite yet, but give it a couple of weeks and the forest and streams and meadows will be teaming with life. Moominvalley, an oasis that thrived the most when spring rose in its grassy knolls and buttery flowers, was a hubbub of flora and fauna, where life lived in perfect synchronicity. This was Snufkin’s destination.

It’s springtime in Moominvalley and Snufkin arrived on the very first day with a new song on his lips and petals blooming under his footsteps. He dropped his glamour on, a veil that fell like a curtain over the end of a show, but there was no standing ovation. Only plain old Snufkin, a little grimy and only a handful of snowdrops drooped from his hat, the white of their petals remained the only memory of the winter snow. 

His song echoed through the yawning valley, danced in the open air and woke the sleepy residents as spring was finally here. The flowers bled from the muddy earth, vibrant crocus and sunshine-dipped daffodils, silky tulips and regal irises rose high under his breath and arched for his legs as he walked by, their centers followed his movements, the long leaves reached for his ankles to grab and soak up his warmth. He felt snowdrops bloom at his heels, delicate and hunched over to the ground as if crying over the loss of snow that matched their petals. The trees shivered alive, the snow dripping in rivulets down the scabbed trunk as the bark thawed itself out, the branches shook with the palest green buds. 

He was a Snufkin, nothing more and nothing less, and it was his job to make sure nature flourished. He was a child of the goddess of spring, after all. 

And he was terrible at his job. He couldn’t help but stick around Moominvalley longer than necessary. It was against his nature to stick around too long, but the very air of the quant valley stirred up the flower buds that nurtured in his chest. 

It’s when he reached the little bridge leading over the stream chilled from the melting snow when he felt those little buds between his ribs shudder and unfurl. A call of his name from a blue house perched atop one of the taller hillocks, a dear friend who was like a perfect cumulus cloud on a spring day drifting lazily over the valley. The slight stuttering in his song was the only indication that the petals were tickling his lungs.

“Snufkin!” Moomintroll shouted, breathless from his sprint from the house, the decline of the hill propelled him forward toward Snufkin at an alarming speed. He reeled himself in right before they would have collided atop the bridge.

“Hello, Moomintroll,” he greeted. He pocketed his harmonica and leaned casually against the railing. 

Moomintroll seemed to press himself down at the sight of Snufkin’s calm demeanor. He took a deep breath to steady himself and leaned back against the rail next to Snufkin. “Hello, Snufkin. How was your journey?”

“Alright. How was your hibernation?” 

A look of mischief flashed across Moomintroll’s forget-me-not blue eyes. Unforgettably blue. “I woke up again around midwinter and visited Too-Ticky. But tell me what happened on your travels first! I want to hear everything.”

“Everything? Even the most boring, insignificant details?” He asked with a quirk of his brow. 

“Absolutely everything.” Moomintroll nodded.

“Only if you tell me what you and Too-Ticky were up to. My story would be far too long compared to your time awake during midwinter.”

At that moment, Moominmamma called him in for breakfast. He grinned sheepishly. “Come have lunch with us?”

Snufkin nodded. It’s been awhile since he’s had Moominmamma’s pancakes. 

\---

He awoke from a nap with a stock of cowslip swaying gently in the breeze in front of him. The little yellow flowers seemed unbothered by the cool wind whipping through the grassy meadow and instead chose to dance with it. Snufkin blinked the crust of sleep from his eyes and rolled over to find the Moomintroll blue sky painted with streaks of wispy, white clouds. He could hear the wind playing with the grass, the leaves of a nearby dogwood burst to life with sound as it moved with the spring air. He inhaled deeply, taking in the earthy smell of the cowslip and a delicate sweetness of an apple tree just behind him up the hill. 

Moomintroll’s soft snore stuttered slightly then fell back into it’s easy rhythm. Snufkin rolled over to face his friend who laid sound asleep next to him, wreathed in the rich emerald and speckled with the golden flowers as if Sniff dropped his precious gold coin collection around his body. 

Snufkin reached over and flicked a stray piece of grass, taller than its waving friends. The leaf warped into a stem and from the bud atop it burst forth a delicate white and purple pansy. He flicked a few more pieces of grass, the yellow offset by the luminous white and rich violet until a wreath of pansies surrounded Moomintroll’s head like a halo. 

When Moomintroll awoke later, he thought it was quite funny how he fell asleep in a pillow of pansies.

\---

The birds are chatty today. They’re always chatty, but today especially so.

_ They’re doing something up there. _

_ I heard it’s a secret. _

_ What’s the secret? _

_ That they’re doing something up there. _

_ It looks quite fun! _

_ Let’s go see! _

_ Oh, it’s marvelous!  _

Snufkin couldn’t help but eavesdrop, his lips stained red from the fresh strawberries Moominmamma had grown and given by the basketloads to everyone who would accept (and even one’s who wouldn’t) in Moominvalley. Snufkin was no exception and received a hefty load of the fat, red berries. They were especially sweet, sweeter than anywhere else Snufkin had ever had them. 

“What’s happening ‘up there’?” Snufkin asked a mockingbird relaxing in the dogwood tree he sat under, it’s pink blooms like the pink that stained Moomintroll’s fur when he brought the basket of strawberries too him this afternoon. 

_ I can’t say! They said it's a secret, so it must remain a secret! _

“Then I suppose it will be a secret,” Snufkin sighed and sank back against the spindly trunk, the pale pink petals fluttered around him in a springtime snow storm. He licked the rest of the strawberry juice from his fingers and wiped his mouth on his coat sleeve before pulling the harmonica from his pocket and bringing it to his lips for a song.

The new spring tune sprang from his lungs and into the air in a tinny melody, notes of gentle longing and a peaceful dream floated among the dogwood petals, lifting them off the jeweled grass and bounced back to the air in a sleepy dance. They swirled around in a pink flurry, not one touching back to the ground where it will be crushed underfoot, browned with death, and dissolved into the topsoil for the next spring’s flowers to bloom with even more color. For now, they danced to his song and twirled in the air as a ballroom of fairies would.

A crunch underfoot alerted him of a rather small guest approaching from behind. He kept playing until she was right behind him.

“Hello, Little My,” he said just as she jumped out from a camellia bush. She  _ tsk _ -ed and plopped down next to him. With his song cut off, the dogwood petals drifted back to the ground. 

“Why are you messing with the petals? Can’t you leave them to die on the ground?” Little My asked. She busied herself with ripping fistfuls of grass from the earth. 

“Why not? Perhaps I’ve giving them one last celebration before their time is up.” He meant to go back to playing but Little My spoke again.

“I suppose so. Can you make me float? I’m so small I bet I can latch on to a rather large leaf and fly around in the air as you just did with these petals.”

“I’m afraid you’re still rather large despite how small you are.” He played his song again from the beginning just so she may hear it all the way through. She sat in the cloud of pink petals, the grass she plucked taking to the air in the gentle breeze of waltzing pinks and the stray camellia that had browned and fallen. She listened through the song and even to the next, until she got bored stood back up to mess around. 

“Does that little trick of yours work on anything but dying plants?” She asked as she hopped atop a rock and tossed a pinecone into the air as if it was a ball. 

“Only fallen plants, yes.”

“What if I fall from an incredible height? Would you catch me?” 

“Not like this.”

\---

Moomin was hiding something from Snufkin. He knew he was a terrible liar, a good one actually, but terrible in front of Snufkin. He can  _ never  _ hide anything from his dear friend. But this needed to be a surprise. 

He got the idea from a book he read, about a group of spies with a hideout hidden in a tree. They did secret stuff like steal important documents that can save the world or gather information from a rotten person. They were undercover heroes to Moomin. Right now, he and Snufkin, as his partner in crime always, needed a secret base. For that, he once again consulted Pappa’s building books and found a blueprint for a treehouse and discovered a secret tree no one would find. 

Of course, he felt bad for sneaking off from Snufkin and the others to build it in private, but once he’s done he’s sure Snufkin would love a little secret spot just for them. 

It needed to remain a secret to work, though. Not with Little My, Sniff, and Snorkmaiden trying to follow him all the time. Twice he got cornered by Little My on the way to his construction site, and once by Snufkin who got a little too close to comfort to the treehouse location, asking if Moomin would like to go sea fishing with him the next day.

“O-oh sure, Snufkin! At first light?” Moomin said. He tried to keep his gaze off the direction of the treehouse, which happened to be behind Snufkin.

“Are you alright?” Snufkin asked, a slight tilt to his head on concern. A stream of afternoon light trailed over a lock of hair on his tanned cheek, illuminating the red strands hidden in the brown. He tore his eyes away from lock of hair and back to a rock on the side of the pathway. 

“I’m fine, why would you think I’m not?” Moomin deflected.

“You’re favoring your left foot and you’re probably up to something you don’t want anyone to find out about,” Snufkin pointed out. 

Moomin did drop a heavy two-by-four on his foot yesterday and it was still tender, a little swollen, but ultimately alright if he iced it some more tonight. He was more worried about Snufkin sniffing out his little plan. 

“I tripped. On a rock yesterday.” He couldn’t meet Snufkin’s eyes. Warm as they were, like the hearth of the fire, they narrowed in suspicion. 

“Alright, keep your secrets.” He turned and trekked off the worn path into the foliage.

“Aw, Snufkin! It’s not what you think!”

“I know, I figured you will tell me when the time is right. Make sure to get some cabbage for that foot, though.” And with a wave, he disappeared into the greenery, thankfully away from the hidden treehouse. 

\---

Fishing was one of Snufkin’s favorite hobbies. Fishing with Moomintroll was like basking in a flowerfield on the perfect spring breeze. The took a boat out in the lake and sat side by side with their fishing rods, the sunlight reflecting off the blue-grey lake and burned one’s eyes if they weren’t careful. His pipe was lit, the smokey smell burned through the air. Sweet peas fluttered atop his hat, tucked around a couple of butter yellow primroses Moomintroll had found for him and the sweetly scented jasmine from the lake shore. 

“I wish we could find a fish as fantastic as the golden fish,” Moomintroll moaned. Today was not a good day to fish, as there were next to no bites and between the two of them in the three hours they had been out here, only two fish were caught (both by Snufkin). Moomintroll was starting to get impatient, wiggling in his seat and eyes drifting to the shoreline where the forest hid new adventures. 

“I don’t think there’s any that large this time of year. Maybe we can try our luck tomorrow?” Snufkin suggested. 

Moomintroll nodded. “That would be nice. Let’s head back and we can take a hike around Lonely Mountain.”

They rowed back to the shoreline and took the fish back to Moominmamma then headed out to the mountainside, the day was still young and a quick hike around would be a nice way to end the day.

“Snufkin?” Moomintroll asked suddenly after a long stretch of pleasant silence between the two of them.

“Yes, Moomintroll?” Snufkin pulled his gaze from a tree growing out the side of the mountain.

“D’you know when your birthday is?”

That took Snufkin by surprise. “Not a clue. What brought this up?”

_ A surprise!  _ A blue jay squaked from the tree growing out the side of the mountain. 

Moomintroll shook his head. “I was just wondering. Aren’t you sad you don’t have one? It’s a special day just for you.”

“I don’t need a special day.” He has a whole season, there’s no need for a single day just for him.

“Everyone needs a day just for them!” Moomintroll retorted. “How about we give you a day?”

“That’s unnecessary,” Snufkin said. “There’s no need to put all the attention on me for a whole day when there’s many other things you can be celebrating.”

“I can’t think of anything more important than celebrating you, Snuf,” Moomintroll said earnestly. 

He felt a summer heat color his cheeks, a rosey red comparable to the pinkest friendship rose. “No need to flatter me, Moomin.” He tugged his hat down over his eyes and waited for the flush to burn itself away. 

“Let’s think of a day that sounds good and we can celebrate it. Oh, but not a day that’s already passed because I want to celebrate it as soon as possible!” Moomintroll cheered and skipped ahead. 

Snufkin couldn’t shake the warm flush from his cheeks the rest of the hike, especially whenever Moomintroll threw a grin that matched the sparkle in his bluebell eyes.

\---

He felt the most energized after a good sleep and a warm breakfast. Moominmamma had insisted this morning he came over for pancakes as she accidentally made too much plus she wanted him to try her new jam, a richly sweet cherry that left Snufkin’s mouth watering for more. 

“I’m glad you like it, would you like to take some back with you?” She asked. He couldn’t deny the offer and weakly took two jars of the still-warm jam. 

She pulled him aside to the kitchen, a whisper in her tone and a secret behind her eyes that matched the earthy green of the stable ground unlike the airy blue that floated away along the horizon. “The summer solstice is almost here and we want to throw a party, but Little My can’t know.”

“And why not?”

“We invited her family, including her big sister whom she adores. It’s going to be a surprise, so make sure she doesn’t find out.”

_ A surprise! _

Oh dear, he thought. 

—-

Little My cornered him among a spot of peonies. Rare as they are due to the flowers preferring colder climates, they adored Moominvalley and burst to life with their gentle scent and petals with edges of their own. 

“What do you know about what the Moomins’ are planning?” She interrogated. 

“Nothing that would interest you, Little My,” he said, not bothering to take his eyes off the bright red ladybug chewing thoughtfully on a long, peony leaf. 

“Then it will probably interest me.” Her eyes flashed dangerously, the green matching the emerald forest, with mischief and adventure hidden amongst its green foliage.

“Even if I knew something, why would I tell you?” He challenged.

“Because I want to know!”

He gave her a level stare, her frown so deep it aged her, reminding Snufkin that she is still older than him. Then he remembered the secret Moomintroll was keeping from him, something that left him exhausted after disappearing for hours on end. He did want to know, but he didn’t want to upset Moomintroll if he followed him out one day. As of now, he wished Little My would do the same and leave it be. 

“There’s no need to know anything.” He plucked her from the ground and placed her on the broad leaf of a hollyhock, its magenta bloom matching the rudy of her face.

He ran off before she could climb down and bite him. 

\---

In late spring when Moomintroll finished. It took longer than he would have liked, but he had to sneak off at just the right moment, and as he didn’t want this to end in a crooked mess of a house like the one for The Mymble and her children ended up being, he rebuilt it twice. Now it was complete, with a ladder hidden in the branches of a lower tree and a platform one would not be able to find from the ground. It was a simple box of a house painted green to blend in with the trees with the windows a little crooked and the door still a little too far off the ground, but once he decorated the place with a cozy table with chairs, a box of snacks, and an old map pinned to the wall he got from Pappa’s study (with permission, of course) it was completed. 

He needed to show Snufkin immediately, but he needed to locate his dear friend before he imploded from excitement. Unfortunately, he could not find him at his campsite, the beach, or any of his usual hang outs. He didn’t want to scour Lonely Mountain for his friend as it was getting very late, but he was getting worried. 

Tomorrow was the summer solstice, and guests will be arriving in Moominvalley, and he wanted a place for Snufkin and he to hide and plot secret missions. He was tired from running around the valley and as Snufkin’s camp was still up, he decided to wait and plopped himself down in a patch of anemone flowers and dutifully plucked them one by one, weaving them into a crown fit for a hat. Snufkin was still nowhere to be seen by the time the sun started to set. 

It was well after supper when Snufkin came back, walking back up the forest path from the beach with salt staining his clothes and boots squeaking with water. A bucket weighed down his side and the lily of the valley blooms dangled like pale bells from the brim of his hat. 

Moomin met him at the bridge, the lantern illuminating them with a warm, yellow glow where the lights of Moominhouse and the half moon light just couldn’t quite reach. 

“Hello, Moomintroll,” Snufkin greeted. “I got tuna.”

“That’s wonderful! Oh, but while you were gone.” Moomin held out the anemone crown he made. “I found these pretty flowers and made you a new wreath for your hat.”

Snufkin took his hat off and plucked the lily of the valleys from the brim before placing the crown upon his hat, sticking the stray flowers back into the band of delicate petals. “Thank you, Moomintroll. If you’re not too tired tonight, can I show you something?”

Moomin was very tired from finishing up the secret base and running around Moominvalley looking for Snufkin, but he wasn’t going to let that stop him. “No, I’m not. What is it you wanna show me?”

“A surprise.”

\--- 

Snufkin had led him down back to the beach and onto the fishing boat he’d anchored to the docks and rowed them out around the edges of their little bay, wrapping around the borders of Moominvalley. Moomin was nervous to be out so far from home this late, when the moon was close to peaking in the twinkling sky and the only sound beyond the sleepy breaths of Moominvalley was the heaving waves. It didn’t take them long to reach a steep cliffside where Snufkin anchored the boat and helped Moomin off onto the thin strip of land. A narrow, steep trail climbed up the side of the rocks. Moomin was breathless when they reached there and he turned to admire the sea from the cliff top, the moon sending shivers of silver tracing the steep sea and the stars traced patterns of songs in the sky. 

“Follow me, Moomintroll, we’re almost there.” Snufkin took Moomin’s paw and gently pulled him toward the dark forest lining the cliffside. The trees were dense, the weak moonlight was unable to breach the woven canopy even if she was at her fullest. Moomin had always guessed Snufkin might have night vision and right now it was proven true as he was able to easily lead them through the thick trees without a bump or stumble. Moomin’s paw was clutched tightly in his own as Moomin followed closely behind.

A break in the trees brought them to a small clearing where long grass swayed in the breeze and stocks of silvery purple lilacs wafted their gently sweet smell into the open air. The moon was near gone from the clouds, but there were fireflies everywhere. It was as if the stars had descended from the bleak, clouded sky and decided to dance the night away amongst the pale lilac blossoms. 

“It’s beautiful, Snufkin,” Moomin said in awe. “How did you find this place?”

“On my way back I anchored at the beach down below and went for a walk. I saw some fireflies coming out and knew it would be stunning tonight.”

They found a spot to sit in the middle of the clearing and watched the fireflies dance to Snufkin’s harmonica music, it’s sweet, spring tunes blurring into the song of summer as the moon reached it’s pale peak and Moomin couldn’t help but lean back against Snufkin’s backside and sigh into the cool night air, a gentle note of sadness lingering in their melodies as spring came to a close. 


	2. Dance (Summer Romance)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> might proofread later bc i just want this out of my hair

Moomin had a hard time getting himself out of bed today and that bothered him since today was an important day. Mamma didn’t scold him for stumbling down the stairs well into breakfast, but only wished him a good morning and gently told him to have those midnight adventures on days he doesn’t need to get up early. 

Sniff was charged with distracting Little My and taking her up to a rural spot in Lonely Mountain where Snufkin had buried a box of rocks for her to find. Meanwhile, it was up to the Moomins and every spare hand to set up the extravagant party to celebrate the new season and Little My’s new age. Moomin didn’t know how old she was, and every time he asked something would always interrupt. He gave up asking and resorted to counting the candles on her cake.

The party was going to be lovely, Moomin thought. Long tables were set out with summer flowers and stakes with paper lanterns framed the perimeter they set up, strings of lights draped the trees and strung over their heads as an imitation of stars. Mamma was cooking with vigor in the kitchen, preparing enough food to keep the whole valley full through winter. In the meantime, Mamma had set out heaping plates of juicy, red watermelon and sweet berry juice for people setting up the party. Moomin took a few slices and ran down to Mr. Hemulen’s where Snufkin was helping him pick flowers to decorate. 

“This is very delicious, thank you Moomintroll,” Snufkin said after chewing thoughtfully on the melon. 

“You’re welcome, now let’s haul these over so we can get them on the tables and chairs. Little My is due back soon!” 

It was no walk in the park bringing so many flowers in the wheelbarrows. It was a miracle they got them all placed in time right before they heard the large shouts of Little My coming from just beyond. 

“Everyone get in place! She’s coming!” Pappa clapped his paws and on cue, everyone rushed to stand in attention, facing the hill Little My will climb to the top of and see the party waiting for her. 

“Mymble isn’t here yet, what do we do?” Pappa fretted, his hat tilted askew in his frantic movement. 

“She will come, it’ll be a grand surprise on top of this surprise when her mother comes,” Mamma soothed. 

\---

The party was going well, very well, but the Moomin’s were still eyeing the path from the beach waiting for The Mymble to arrive. She’ll come when she comes, Snufkin thought. 

Snufkin didn’t want to admit it, but he was rather nervous himself. He kept to himself at the fringe of the party, in which most, if not all, of Moominvalley, showed up for. The record player Moominpappa had successfully fixed up was playing joyful tunes into the sweet, summer air as the day slowly cooled as the night struggled to blanket the horizons. This was the longest day of the year and sunset didn’t come until the party reached its peak, when the music grew the loudest and drinks splashed refill after refill into cups. Little My had stuck a little cosmo from the table display into her bun as if it were her crown and swung around in the middle of it all, her laughter loud and smile even louder. 

It’s when the sun touched the tops of the forests and the sky was a rich gold with strands of rosy pink did a parade arrive. Thirty-four children with hair red like Little My’s and screams somehow louder than hers rushed from the beach trail and over to the party, in the midst of their chaos rose the imposing figure of their mother. 

The Mymble was eccentric, a presence so loud and bright it’s hard to ignore, especially how she was taller than even the tallest hemulen. Her red hair was messy atop her head, where little baby’s breath flowers were scattered like sparse snow and her eyes glittered like sunshine on the greenest lake surface. The air felt sweeter in her presence, cooler like a gentle spring breeze dripping with honeysuckle petals. Little My leaped with a shout and ran into her mother’s embrace, her big arms holding her tightly to her chest. The party grew louder, more rambunctious, fit for a Little My with too much energy crammed in that very little body. 

From the fringe of the party, Mymble’s eyes landed on Snufkin. This was the first time she’s seen him since he was placed in a basket and sent down the river. He tipped his hat and turned away.

\---

He wasn’t mad at her. He couldn’t bring himself to be angry at her for letting him go when he was so young. He grew up fine, he never pined for the affections of a mother or the guidance of a father. He knew what his mother and father were, but when Moominpappa placed a name and face to their beings, shaped their characters through his stories, he ached something sharp like a cold pick of winter ice drilled into his heart. 

It was a surprise when it wasn’t Moomintroll who found him first, but The Mymble. Overwhelmed with the party, he had dove into the forest and climbed up a maple tree thick with green leaves. The summer breeze hit him just right, and from here he can watch the sun tiptoe the horizon and paint the sea a brilliant, hazy orange that drove the warmth of the day away.

“Snufkin,” she said. 

He nodded in acknowledgment and lit his pipe, letting the smoke waft into the air and fill the thick silence with its odor, the sweet smell of daisies and poppies on his hat was blanketed under a smokey curtain. 

“You’ve become quite the deity, haven’t you,” she settled herself on the ground under his tree, her voice rising into the air as if caught by a breeze and sailed up to his perch. 

“You couldn’t have done anything for me, could you?” It was a statement, not a question. 

“No. I can’t raise a spirit. Those children are all demigods and I enjoy watching them grow, but you aren’t a demigod. You won’t grow like them.”

“Little My?” 

“Is like them, and so is my eldest. You’re one of a kind, Snufkin.” A sigh left her lips and it was as if the whole forest took a breath of fresh air. The leaves seemed greener, the air fresher, and the gentle sweetness of the most fragrant flora, of soft sweet peas and mysterious wisteria, star-light jasmine and plump gardenias. It was as if spring came back once more for another round. Snufkin looked down from his perch and saw The Mymble as she truly is- a goddess of spring. 

Flowers bloomed and died in her hair, petals dripped like soft snow onto her shoulders and the green grass that’s sprouted out around her. The collar of fur was replaced with a wreath of greenery and flowers oozing their sweet scent, her coat was now a shifting robe that seemed to have been woven from the silkiest petals. She looked up to where Snufkin lounged in the tree, her round face glowing with light only one not of this world can possess. 

Snufkin lifted his robe of glamour, the scruffy Snufkin in a coat too old to count the years of and boots worn to the thinnest soles were replaced by his robes of shimmering green. His hat bloomed all sorts of flowers, from the smallest, palest buds to the brightest, largest petals. He descended from the tree with a graceful leap, draped in spring nature, falling far too high to be safe and landed gently on the freshly grown grass, his bare feet hitting the cool blades.

“What of The Joxter, my father?” Snufkin asked. 

“A minor god, the personification of a lazy summer day,” she nodded. “It’s why you reign strongest in the spring and summer where the flowers bloom brightest and the sun is the warmest. You spend your days idly and freely, amongst the root of trees and grassy meadows and wherever you go, you bring spring with you.”

She looked up where he stood before him. Even sitting, he was only barely taller than her. “You need to leave earlier than that, my son. I heard from the Moomins you hang around here through the autumn. That can harm you, and it can harm the balance of nature.”

“I know.” 

“Then leave as soon as the trees start to shudder and the flowers start to grow smaller. You need to bring your music to the south where the sun sits high in the sky.”

“I will.”

Her eyes narrowed, unbelieving of him. Towers of delphiniums started growing around her, pale blue and pink trumpets of flowers unraveling and reaching for their sun, their spring goddess. Pops of tiny daisies sprung at their feet and brushed up against Snufkin’s bare ankles. “You will. I don’t know if you know this, but if you linger too long in one place, you may perish.”

“I know.” He was starting to sound like a broken record, skipping over select words that would appease his mother. But he knew, he understood the risk of staying too close to winter in Moominvalley. He did it once before because Moomintroll asked him to stay until the winter solstice for their feast so he won’t miss him too terribly when he left. He was ill then, and could barely touch his food, and almost didn’t make it out of Moominvalley before the snow started to really come down. Moomintroll has tried since then to have him stay a little longer, sighing loudly, despondently, into the autumn air. He caved and stayed, and he almost died. 

“Don’t do it again. For each time you do, you will grow weaker faster.”

A shout of his named echoed through the forest. A flock of birds rose from the trees and scattered into the orange horizon, the sun swallowed by the midnight blue. 

Moomintroll rounded the corner and spotted Snufkin. “There you are! Are you alright? You disappeared during the party.”

“I’m okay, just a little overwhelmed with the number of people,” Snufkin said. 

“Oh wow! These are gorgeous!”

The Mymble had disappeared, leaving the patch of jewel-green grass and the stocks of delphiniums at the base of the tree. Snufkin had dropped his glamour back on, his boots crushing the grass and the daisies on his hat matched the ones by Moomin’s feet. Moomintroll did not see a thing. “Aren’t they lovely? They’re called delphinium.”

“They are.” Moomin picked a couple of little daisies and stuck them in the wreath of flowers on Snufkin’s hat. “Do you want to be alone right now?”

Snufkin shook his head. “We can go to the beach and take a walk. I’m just tired of the party.”

Moomintroll’s eyes lit up, a mischevious sparkle that seemed a little too excited for a simple moonlit stroll on the beach.

“Can I show you something instead?”

\---

They stole a lantern from the party when no one was looking and traipsed up the forest path. Snufkin realized it was the direction Moomintroll had been sneaking off too for months now. 

“What do you want to show me?” Snufkin prodded. 

“It’s a surprise.” Moomintroll was practically vibrating. 

They reached a bend in the trail and Moomintroll went off the path, over a bushel of bright, yellow yarrow, and down a secret worn path that wound through the trees. He suddenly stopped at the base of a sturdy oak tree. He pushed aside some broken branches piled up at the bottom and revealed a rope ladder dangling down the side of the tree. 

“What is this, Moomintroll?” Snufkin asked. He looked up and between the thick branches he could make out wooden boards. 

“I built us a secret base,” Moomintroll said, his voice barely able to contain his excitement. “I read a book about spies having secret bases hidden in plain sight, where they can meet and plot their next missions. I thought it would be cool if we had a secret place, too.”

“Oh, Moomintroll, it’s fantastic.” Snufkin’s heart swelled with something warm. A moment of fear iced his veins, that this was Moomintroll asking him to stay forever, but this was a treehouse, a place for them alone and not an _actual_ house. He needn’t read too deeply into the meaning of all this. 

“Let’s go, let’s go! You haven’t even seen the best of it yet!” Moomintroll ushered him up the ladder. It took them through a square hole cut out of a wooden platform, buried in the oak branches and green leaves. There was no way someone could see this place from below, and with the thick tree coverage, it was hard to see it coming from the forest path unless someone was looking for it. 

The house was a simple box that was morphed around a sturdy branch. The door was a little high off the ground, and there were curtains patterned with summer yellow sunflowers (definitely Moominmamma’s work). The cabin was small, a little rickety for comfort, but Snufkin adored it. The little chairs at the table, a basket of snacks, a worn map from Moominpappa, a bouquet of small sunflowers and pale purple cosmos sat in a vase Snufkin remembered Moomintroll made when he was briefly into pottery, the sides bumpy with paw marks and the smear of bright blues made it personal. Moomin lit the oil lamp on the table and filled the small space with a wonderful warm glow. The blue light left from the twilight was chased away with the golden candlelight. 

“This is wonderfully cozy,” Snufkin said as he settled down into one of the chairs. He peaked out from behind the window curtain and could see the main forest path between the branches of their tree. “Perfect for spying, but I’m afraid at night someone will see our light.”

“Then we’ll have to be extra careful and only come when everyone’s asleep,” Moomintroll said. He took the seat across from Snufkin and pulled out a book from a box under the table. “Let me show you the book that inspired me to make this!”

\---

Little My bobbed through the tall stocks of gladiolus, a bundle held in her small arms. With her size, it was as if she was carrying lumber, not pink and yellow flowers. She emerged from the stocks and ran full sprint toward Moominhouse, where Moominmamma was trimming the stems of gladiolus and placing them in long vases. 

“Thank you, Little My, that will be plenty for now,” Moominmamma said kindly, taking the new bundle from Little My. “Can you deliver this vase to Mrs. Fillyjonk?” She handed Little My a vase almost as tall as her with a spry of artfully arranged flowers, a red bow tied around the slim neck of the bottle. 

“Sure thing! Don’t get mad if I spill!” Little My leaped from the porch and teetered down the walkway toward Mrs. Fillyjonk’s house, the water sloshing dangerously in the vase and her arms burned but she refused to put it down. 

Out of the corner of her eye, she caught a Moomintroll-white shape flitter in the corner of her eye. She quietly placed the vase down on the side of the road and scanned the treeline where she saw it.

There! Darting between the trees was Moomintroll, his own armload of gladiolus flowers clutched close to his chest, the red pedals bobbing with his steps. The flowers won’t die if they waited out in the sun for a bit, Little My thought to herself and ran after him. 

She stayed far enough away he wouldn’t be able to hear him, but close enough to keep him within sight. They wound through the trees, going off and on trails and pushing through bushes. He stopped suddenly at the bank of a river, a waterfall feeding into the quickly moving water. Snufkin sat at the shore, a bucket next to him and his fishing rod posed in his hand. Branches of green leaves and fern dripped from his hat, the single white dahlia poking from the side was like a beacon amongst the green. Moomintroll came up behind him and plucked a bud of red gladiolus and stuck it in his hat brim. The roar of the waterfall hid their words and Little My scooted closer to catch what they were talking about. 

She heard “secret base” and lost face. She hopped from behind the bush and shouted, “And _ what _are you two up to?!”

Moomintroll jumped in surprise and Snufkin turned and tipped his hat in greeting. “Little My, hello.”

“Hello to you, too. What are you talking about?” She asked again.

Moomintroll seemed to be sweating under all his fur, his eyes darting everywhere but Little My. “Nothing much, I wanted to show Snufkin the flowers you and Mamma picked.” Liar. 

She tried again, badgering them for good answers, but she only got vague remarks. She got bored, as Moomintroll was giving Snufkin big cow eyes as he fished and Snufkin kept sneaking longing glances at Moomintroll when he wasn’t looking. It was sickening and she couldn’t take it. She left to go finish delivering the flowers

\---

Moomin realized that he harbored warm feelings for Snufkin when the sun was at its hottest. Snufkin had stripped to his trousers and worn shirt, the white so faded it was threadbare at the hems and elbows. They splashed around a creek where a willow tree traced its surface, stocks of violet irises waved in the warm, summer breeze and spots of petunias reached for the water. It was a picturesque sight of them chasing frogs in the moving water, tripping over stray stones and tangled in weeds. The cool water felt great in Moomin’s heated skin, his fur thinned for the summer but it wasn’t enough to cool him from the hot sun. Snufkin had a peeling sunburn on his nose, new freckles sprang up across his cheeks and the back of his hands and for a second Moomin wanted to kiss them.

The shock of realization hit him as if Little My dumped ice-cold lemonade over his head. He froze in the creek, the water splashing at his waist as he stared wide-eyed at Snufkin floating on the surface, eyes closed and absorbing the sun peeking through the willow branches and warming the water. Moomin’s heart leaped in his throat and caught his tongue in a stranglehold. Never in his life had he wanted to hold someone’s paw so much. 

\---

The Moomins shielded themselves from the midsummer sun under their balcony, with Moominappa taking up residence in the hammock with a book over his face to muffle his snores. Snufkin sat on the railing cleaning his harmonica while Moomintroll sat next to him with a book of his own. From where they sat, a breeze hit them just right. Moominmamma was nearby repairing one of Little My’s dresses with a rather large hole in the hem. The little monster herself laid sprawled out on the porch, sweat dampening her hairline and shooting glances and Moomintroll and Snufkin.

Snufkin let his eyes follow her glances where Moomintroll was posed reading a book, one of pirates and seascape adventures. The sun hit his fur where the shade couldn’t shield him, haloing him in a white glow and Snufkin’s heart stuttered in his chest. 

Moomintroll chose that moment to look and he smiled at Snufkin, his eyes glittered with mirth from what Snufkin suspects is from a silly part in his novel. He winked at Snufkin and went back to reading. 

Little My snorted when Snufkin turned his back to the porch so no one could see his red cheeks.

\---

Snufkin found himself napping amongst hydrangeas. They grew off the side of one spot on the road and their fragrant shade was ideal for a mid-afternoon nap. It was August, and the heat was reaching to the point of unbearable. The day before he and the Moomins wore themselves out on their own seascape adventure when they took the boat out. He could still smell the lingering salt and sand on his skin, a smell that won’t go away until summer is gone beyond the horizons. 

He heard familiar footsteps coming down a road, a gait he had memorized by heart. Moomintroll caught sight of his boots sticking out of the flowers and crawled under the bush to join him. 

“Hullo, Snufkin,” Moomintroll greeted. “Do you mind if I join you? The sun is very harsh right now and it smells wonderful in this shade.” 

“Be my guest.” Snufkin patted the spot next to him. It was a tight fit within the sturdy branches and pom poms of pastel flowers, but Snufkin didn’t mind. He could never mind being so close to Moomintroll. 

It was peaceful between them, or that’s what Snufkin wanted to say. He was enjoying the air between them, warm and fragrant. It was Moomintroll who seemed to not be able to settle down. He was tense, kept shifting in his spot. 

Unable to take it, Snufkin pokes. “What’s the matter, Moomintroll?”

“I want this to last forever,” Moomintroll spoke in a rush, a crack in the dam. 

“Well, summer can’t last forever. Soon it will be autumn and I’ll have to leave again, but don’t worry, I’ll always be back,” Snufkin soothed. “Then we can have a whole new spring together.” 

“No, not that. It’s-“ Moomintroll gulped and sat up as far as he could with a wide branch of spade leaves in his way. He looked down over at Snufkin. “I don’t want us to change.” 

“People are always changing, but we can change together.” Snufkin was admittedly a little confused where Moomintroll’s train of thought was going. He thought they’ve discussed this in-depth? 

His heart lit up, fluttered in his chest in hope. He crushed it underfoot. 

Moomintroll gulped. “I don’t mean it like that. I’m… I…” 

Snufkin waited patiently. He sat up, too, and gripped the brim of his hat in his lap. 

“I don’t know how to say this but I need to say this to you Snufkin, but I don’t want ya to change apart, can we still be friends?” Moomintroll looked anywhere but at Snufkin. 

“Of course I’ll stay by your side,” Snufkin agreed easily. It was the easiest yet hardest thing he could do. 

“Snufkin,” Moomintroll took a deep breath, steadying himself and pulled his gaze to meet Snufkin’s. “I love you so much, I want to stay with you, and you stay with me. I love you like Mamma and Pappa love each other, and if you don’t- don’t feel the same way, that’s okay! As long as we can be friends that’s more than enough for me.” 

There was a stutter in Snufkin’s heartbeat at Moomintrolls confession. 

“You don’t have to respond, we don’t have to change,” Moomintroll continued. “I needed you to know that before I exploded.”

“What if I want it to change?” Snufkin asked. His heart felt so light, pounding a rhythm into his chest. Before Moomintroll could respond, a look of pain crossing his face, Snufkin said, “What if I want us to be together, too… if you would have me?” He felt… he didn’t know how to voice his love for Moomintroll, he never thought he would ever. He wasn’t prepared.

Moomintroll’s eyes filled with starlight, a smile graced his face so wide and happy Snufkin silently filed away that memory forever. “I would love to,” Moomintroll said.

They held hands, something they’ve done countless times before, but this time it had a whole new meaning.

\---

The summer heat got hotter and drier as the season progressed, the riverbed dried out and only the sturdiest flora could withstand the waves of heat. Grass shriveled to brown crisps and Moominmamma’s roses were nothing but bare stumps. In this, like everyone else in Moominvalley, Snufkin found himself dozing off more often than not. With a heat this intense, it left the air dizzy with sleep. 

As Moomintroll and Snufkin would be considered officially together, they hardly strayed from each other’s sides. Their honeymoon phase, as Moominmamma called it. Despite how desperately Snufkin wanted to cuddle up to Moomintroll’s soft chest and sleep the day away under the bridge, the heat wouldn’t allow him to go closer than a few inches from Moomintroll. At night, when the air cooled to a more bearable warmth, not nearly cool enough to wear his jacket again but less like he needed to peel his skin off too, they would watch fireflies dance amongst the midnight blue or simply relax on the beach where the waves pounded their stories into the sand. 

Snufkin tried not to think of the coming autumn, how the sunflowers were growing less frequently and the air lost the summer touch. 

\---

As if summoned, or perhaps sent by a certain spring goddess, Snufkin received a visitor on the last day of summer.

The summer left him weak and found that naps helped. Napping in flowers helped a lot. He laid in a grove of lavender brush, the first of the upcoming season and a final goodbye from summer. Their soothing smell lulled him into a deep sleep and he wondered if Moomintroll has seen this yet. 

A crunch of footsteps through hard dirt and the sage leaves of the lavender brought Snufkin out of his stupor. Sleepily, he sat up and put his hat back on, the top adorned with more of the lavender stocks and sweet asters Moomintroll had found for him. A figure framed by the too-bright sun shaded his vision.

“Hello, may I help you with something?”

“I’m your dad and your mother sent me to make sure you’re getting ready to leave,” this person, The Joxter, said.

To see both his parents within the span of one season, how fortunate Snufkin must be. The Joxter was as Moominpappa described him to be, his eyes were a piercing blue and his olive coat had seen better days, the hat on his head was similar to Snufkin’s except red and looped through the cord around the brim were dandelions. From the pipe hanging from his lips and the calm disposition, Snufkin was a little unnerved by the similarities between them. 

“It’s too early, tell her I’ll leave when it’s properly time,” Snufkin said. 

The Joxter’s eyes narrowed. He took a deep breath of his pipe and puffed out a ring of smoke. “Okay.”

Snufkin was taken aback. “Okay?”

“Yeah.” He plopped down next to Snufkin and leaned back, his hat tilted down to shield his face. “I don’t care. You’re a grown man. She never took interest in you before now, so I don’t know what her concern is.”

The remark sort of hurt, but it was the hard truth. “Is she trying to change herself?”

“Not likely. I think she doesn’t want her only god kid to die out because he liked hanging out with the Moomins. Don’t worry, I do too. Your little boyfriend’s dad and I go way back.” His voice was muffled by his hat, the pipe lifted lazily in the air as he tapped out the ashes without care. 

Snufkin stared down at him unsure of where to go from there. “They’re good, the Moomins.”

“Yeah, lay down kid, take a nap with me, then let’s go eat some of Moominmamma’s delicious food.” The Joxter patted Snufkin’s spot, the dent still in the grass where Snufkin had been laying.

He complied and found it odd to be having a cat nap with his dad out of the blue, a man he has never met before this moment. A god-like him who chose to spend his days idly, and suddenly he didn’t find it so weird so similar they were.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey here's what Snufkin looks like i did a drawing like months ago  
https://mirai-eats.tumblr.com/post/185181528665/a-spring-deity-snufkin-for-a-fic-i-might-be  
main tumblr: snufgun  
art tumblr: mirai-eats  
twitter: mirai_eats

**Author's Note:**

> I'm gonna do my best to crank out a chapter a week but also don't take my word. kudos and comments como se dice, bring me to life.  
EDIT: i hecked up and while doing further research for the next part Little My's birthday is actually on midsummer but. hm i dont wanna go back and correct so shrug  
main tumblr: snufgun  
art tumblr: mirai-eats  
twitter: mirai_eats


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